


icicles and snow

by thisissirius



Series: the trees of vermont [17]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Cold, Eddie is Dramatic, Fluff, M/M, Vermont
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25956649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: “Who changed the thermostat settings?” Eddie snaps immediately. Seriously? “I’m freezing to death!”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: the trees of vermont [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790356
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	icicles and snow

Buck’s phone rings. 

Slipping the hammer back in his belt and jamming the pencil between his teeth, he frowns as he stares down at his cell. It’s skidding across the wood, Eddie’s name flashing. Buck rolls his eyes. It’s not like he needs to panic about anything happening to Chris; Bobby’s got him all day, and there’s no way Bobby’s not calling Eddie _and_ Buck. 

When his phone rings again, and then a third time while Buck’s trying to section off the beams, he curses and snatches the phone off the worktable.

“What?”

“Who changed the thermostat settings?” Eddie snaps immediately. Seriously? “I’m freezing to death!”

Buck tries not to bang his head against the not-quite-wall. “Eddie, I love you, but it’s _not_ that cold.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a minute. Two. “I have two blankets and I’m still cold.”

“Nobody messed with the settings,” Buck says, putting the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Chris doesn’t know how, and why would I do that, when you keep calling me to complain?”

Another pointed silence. “You’re the worst husband ever.”

“Uh-huh,” Buck says, narrowing his eyes at the beam. It definitely needs another cut somewhere, and he runs his eyes along the roof. “I’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

“You’ve been working on the house for hours already,” Eddie whines. Yep, definitely sulking. “Can’t you come home and cuddle me?”

Buck pauses, smiling to himself stupidly. Eddie knows how to ask for hugs and kisses, does so on a regular basis, so it’s not that. “I thought you were growing to love Vermont?”

Eddie huffs. “That doesn’t mean I love the weather. The house is too big and too cold. Chris isn’t here and you’re at the house and I hate this.”

The house is coming along nicely, Buck reasons. it wouldn’t hurt to cut stuff short today. “Fine. I’ll be home in a half hour. But if we don’t sell this house on time, you don’t get to complain.”

“Can you bring home some dumplings from Bobby’s?”

Buck rolls his eyes. “You just want me to check in on Chris.”

“No!” It’s too quick and Eddie knows it, because he huffs, and says, “fine, but don’t _tell_ him that.”

“I’ll be home soon, dear.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie snaps, and hangs up. 

Buck does swing by Bobby’s for some dumplings. He doesn’t know what it is about them that Eddie loves so much, but Buck’s not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. If Eddie’s stuffing his face with food, he’s not using it to complain about how cold Vermont is. 

_You could just move_ , Bobby had told him once. 

Eddie’s face, and Chris’ quick refusal, had been the only answer Bobby needed. 

Eddie likes to complain about Vermont; the weather, the trees, etc etc, but when it comes to actually leaving the state? He’s quick to point that as if he’d move anywhere without Chris and Buck. 

(Buck knows they’re going to retire in Vermont.)

Chris knows exactly why he’s in the diner, and sighs. “Dad needs to get a life.”

“You and I know that,” Buck says, leaning across the counter. Bobby smacks his hand before he can steal a cookie. “Your dad just needs time.”

Chris sighs. Buck smothers a laugh behind his hand, thanking Bobby for the dumplings he passes across in a bag. “Tell Dad I love him?”

“Will do,” Buck promises, and presses a kiss to the top of Chris’ head. “Have fun with Harry.”

Eddie looks ridiculous.

He’s swathed in blankets on the couch, hair sticking up in myriad of directions, like he’s been buried. The house is, actually, not that hot and Buck frowns. “Did you turn up the thermostat?”

“No,” Eddie says, grumpy, “I thought I’d leave it _fucking freezing_ just to make a point.”

“Well,” Buck starts, avoiding the kick Eddie aims at him when he passes, and heads for the thermostat. It’s definitely saying it’s _supposed_ to be hotter, but the house is pretty cold. “Your house is a money pit, Diaz.”

“Shut up, Diaz,” Eddie says, looking at Buck over the top of the back of the couch. He looks ridiculous, frankly, and Buck laughs gently. “You’re my contractor husband; if it’s broken, it’s _your_ fault.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll fix it later.”

Eddie pouts. “Why not now?”

“Because now,” Buck says, resting the dumplings on the table in front of the couch. “Is time to eat.”

“You brought them,” Eddie says, tugging the bag towards him. He still looks ridiculous, so Buck has to lean in and kiss him. Eddie hums against Buck’s mouth, lifting a hand to Buck’s shirt and holding him in place. “What was that for?”

“I love you,” Buck says easily, sliding in under the blankets next to Eddie. “Even when you’re being dramatic about the weather.”

“It’s so cold,” Eddie whines, but he nestles close to Buck, cradling the styrofoam container of dumplings on his lap. 

Wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, Buck kisses his temple, stealing one of the dumplings and focusing on the TV. It’s a show about trails in Vermont and Buck smiles. “This looks interesting.”

Eddie shrugs, shovelling a dumpling and sauce into his mouth. He lets out a noise that doesn’t belong outside of the bedroom in Buck’s opinion, and then smirks at Buck. “I need somewhere else to walk when you piss me off.”

“I, the husband who brings you dumplings, could piss you off?”

“You do when you’re so inconsiderate about me being cold!”

“You lived in Texas,” Buck points out, “not the Sahara Desert.”

Eddie kicks him. “I hate you.”

Buck rubs his finger over Eddie’s wedding ring. “No you don’t.”

While Eddie polishes off the rest of the dumplings, pointedly not offering Buck any _or_ answering him, Buck plays with Eddie’s hair, watches the showcase of the Green Mountains and their wonderful trails. When he’s done, Eddie drops the styrofoam back onto the table and turns to Buck. 

“I don’t actually hate it,” he says quietly. “Vermont, I mean.”

“I know.” Buck keeps his voice just as low. 

“I also don’t hate you,” Eddie says, leaning in for another kiss. He tastes like Bobby’s famous sauce, and Buck licks into his mouth, hand on the back of Eddie’s head tightening in his hair. When they part, Eddie’s eyes are dark. “Want me to show you how much I don’t hate you?”

It’s ridiculous, but Buck laughs, dips in for another kiss. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> [join me on tumblr :)](https://thisissirius.tumblr.com/)


End file.
